The Reason
by Noxid Anamchara
Summary: What if when Rick comes back with the news of Daryl's departure, Carol didn't want to stay with the group? What if she wants to look for Daryl? She'll make the choice that she wants. And she won't let anyone stand in her way. Caryl, Maryl
1. Choice

**Nox**: So I don't know if this has been done before, but I've haven't seen it yet. And I'm doing it regardless. The _'what if'_ Carol left to find Daryl instead scenario. Because the Caryl in me needs to!

**Disclaimer**: The Walking Dead belongs to Kirkman and AMC.

* * *

Choice

She couldn't stop her heart from racing, and she couldn't seem to catch her breath. It was like she wasn't even there. It didn't feel real, but the weight of her body, the bag slung across her shoulders, the knife in her hand, all told her otherwise.

And then his eyes.

The clear of the blue was so bright against his haggard, dirty face, and he couldn't keep from staring back at her.

She'd never felt so relieved to see him, so _happy_. Like her heart would burst from her chest.

And then _his_ chest was standing between them.

"Well look at what the cat dragged in."

**|15 Hours Earlier…|**

"Why?" She kept packing the bag. Clothes, food rations, a few bandages that could be spared. She fingered the gun, thinking of leaving it but thought better of it. She might need it if something went wrong.

She would just use it as a last resort.

"Carol, please," Maggie whispered, placing her hands on the last of her belongings. She looked up, finding Maggie's pleading eyes.

"I have to go," she said confidently. She pulled the small knife, her mother's necklace and Sophia's doll out from under her hands. They were things that the group hardly ever saw, things she kept close to her heart. She knew enough to keep them hidden, safely tucked away.

"But if you go out there," Maggie said heatedly, gesturing to the prison walls, "we can't protect you. We can't go _with_ you." She smiled. It was comforting to know just how much the young woman cared for her. It was enough just to know that when she left, she wouldn't be forgotten.

She reached forward, took hold of her hands. "Maggie, I don't _want_ any of you to go with me."

Maggie's face twisted like she was in pain, and she gripped her hands back. "But Carol, it's not safe." She shook her head slowly.

"If it was Glenn who never came back," she whispered gently, holding Maggie's gaze firmly, "would you sit around just waiting to see if he ever came back? Or would you go looking for him?"

Maggie pursed her lips, eyes conflicted. She took a deep breath then, and nodded.

"I'll help you." Carol shook her head no, pulling her hands from Maggie's.

"No, Maggie. That's not necessary." But Maggie was shaking her head and walking out.

"I'll be back in a minute." She released the breath she'd been holding, and pulled her bag over her shoulder.

She was really going to do this.

She'd taken care of Judith. Taken care of the group. Taken care of everybody else but herself. It was time she started thinking about that. Thinking about what _she _wanted.

And she knew what she wanted earlier.

_"Gone?" She echoed as her voice wavered. It wasn't true. Daryl wasn't just gone. He wasn't not coming back. Any minute he would walk up to those gates, with his brother, and they'd share that look that had become _theirs_. _

_But he wasn't coming back. She could feel the weight of that as Rick wrapped his arms around her, drawing her close. The weight of his hand on her neck as he held her down. She felt like she could float away. _

_But what she really wanted was to walk out those gates and never look back. What she wanted to was find him, and never leave his side._

The more she thought on it, it didn't matter if they came back or if they stayed with Merle. All she wanted was to find him, and be with him. That was all she cared about.

She needed to see his face, to know he was okay, to know that whatever happened, she would be with him.

Being separated from him wasn't something she was going to suffer. She would find him.

"You ready?" She looked up, her hands resting over Judith's bundled form. She would miss Judith the most. Miss seeing her smiling face, miss holding her.

It was going to be hard not knowing if everyone would be okay while she was gone. She traced her fingers down Jude's cheek.

"Yes," she whispered, and walked away, out of the block.

"Keep off the roads, but don't lose sight of them," Maggie whispered hurriedly as they made their way through the prison.

"We left Daryl here," and she pulled a map out of her pocket, and pointed to a place she circled. She noticed another mark where it said prison. The distance between the two was far. It would take her most of the night to cover that much ground.

"If you push on through most of the night, and push _hard,_ you should make it before morning," and then Maggie handed her a flashlight. "Don't use it unless you have too. I don't know how much battery life is left." She nodded; suddenly feeling like this would be their last goodbye. She didn't want to lose them forever. She wanted to come back someday, wanted to bring Daryl back here, where he belonged. But she knew there were no guarantees.

"You hear walkers, you keep moving. Don't stop for'em, don't panic. As long as you know you can take them down, you _can_." Maggie turned to her then, as they stood outside the gate leading to a world she hadn't ventured into since they came to the prison.

Carol could feel the anxiety curling her stomach.

"And whatever you do, don't _die_." Maggie's eyes shone bright, and she suddenly felt her own welling up with tears.

"Tell the others I'm sorry I left without saying goodbye," she said, choking back the tears. "Tell them goodbye _for_ me, and that I love them." Maggie pulled her into her arms, the embrace tight.

"Take care of Jude," she whispered into Maggie's ear.

"We will," she said forcefully. "And take care of yourself." Maggie squeezed her once more, and then pulled away. She pulled the keys out of her back pocket and then went to the gate.

"One more thing," she said absently, and pulled a crowbar out from her waistband. "I know it's heavy, but it should do the job. Your hunting knife will take you too close, and you shouldn't use the gun unless you absolutely have to." She nodded, holding the crowbar close.

"Where did you find it?" Maggie smiled, and unlocked the gate, pulling it open slowly. "One of the cars we looted around the prison. We've been keeping it around, just in case." Carol nodded and held it firmly, her fingers running over the hard, heavy metal.

"Thank you," she said, and walked out, beyond the gate. She turned around to face Maggie, the silence between them heavy with unspoken words. And then she pulled the gate closed between them.

She put her hand up against the chain links, gripping them tight. Carol put her hand against Maggie's.

"Bring him back," she whispered softly.

Carol nodded, squeezed her fingers, and then turned away. Walked away from the only other people she had left in this world. Walked away from the only place that was safe.

And walked towards the only person she had left that she cared for with every part of her soul.

* * *

"Carol?" Her heart jumped at the sound of his voice. She leaned to the side a little, to try to see his face beyond Merle's body standing between them. But he just leaned down, his face coming into her view, a wicked grin on his face.

"Hell, I remember you," he said, eyes narrowing. He approached her, his hand rubbing at his chin thoughtfully. He looked anything but thoughtful. He looked like a man with a daunting past. A man who had nothing but his brother at his side and that was all he wanted.

"You that wife a the deadbeat." She didn't like the smile on his face, didn't like the way he sauntered up to her.

"Back the hell away Merle." Merle stopped, eyes narrowing dangerously now. She watched as his lip curled up, and he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Or what little brother?" He took another step toward her, his smile growing. He reached out his hand, and she felt the breath catch in her throat as his fingers flicked across her shirt at her shoulder.

"You got a claim on this bitch or somethin'," he murmured softly, eyes dancing over her. She stiffened.

"Dammit Merle!" She swatted his hand away and took a step back, the distance between them giving her room to breathe.

And then Daryl was between them, and she felt her chest deflate at the sight of the wings on his back.

"The hell's your problem?" he barked, taking a threatening step toward Merle. She watched Merle's face, watched the interest in it as he glanced between them both.

But it didn't matter. None of it did. All that mattered was that she had found him, he was here, and she could finally _breathe_.

"I found you," she murmured, reaching out to touch the wings on his back.

**|12 Hours Earlier…|**

She made it. Her legs were exhausted, her arms were tired, she couldn't catch her breath, she was covered in blood, but she had _made_ it.

She glanced around, taking in the glaring silence around her.

But now, she didn't know where to go. What direction did he go? Where would Daryl have gone with his brother? How far had they gotten ahead of her? What would drive him?

She fell against the tree behind her, and breathed deep, pulling the map out of her bag for the sixth time. Blood smeared across the corner of the paper, and she wiped at her forehead.

There wasn't much on here, but the marks that Maggie had made for her. And she wasn't very good at identifying anything else either. But if she could guess right, one of them was a river. Two were bridges. A third was a landmark.

She looked up, scanning the area around her. Where would Daryl go?

She had to think like he would.

She sighed, and rubbed at her face. She kept forgetting that _Merle_ was with him now. She had to accommodate for that. It changed things, made it different. What if influenced Daryl, made his choices different than what she had learned?

It didn't matter. She would have to take that gamble. And she realized where Daryl would go. When they were on the farm, and he was always camping out on his own he was always hunting. He still did that now when he got the chance to get out from behind the walls. But then it was easier. The woods were right behind him, like his own backyard.

He'd looked for a place to hunt, or find food. And from what she remember when the others had come back, he'd only taken his own belongings that had gone with him. And that meant they needed everything.

Clothes, food.

_Water_.

He would head for the river.

She glanced down at the map and checked to see where it was, if it had a name. It didn't have a name but someone had marked its place on the map. And she had a direction to go. It wasn't much to go on, but it was all she had. And she was going to take it.

**|7 Hours Earlier…|**

She'd found the river as the sun was beginning to rise. After the closest encounter she'd ever experienced with a walker that had her shaking, she'd found it. She fell to her knees, and plunged her hands into the water, washing the blood from them, and then splashing the cold water across her face.

But now it was a matter of which direction to follow it. Did she follow it upstream, or downstream?

She sat there, staring at her reflection in the water, and wanted to cry. Found she couldn't breathe. What if she never found him? What if she wandered forever, in a world of the walking dead, and _never found him_?

Or worse? What if he went back on his own? Would the world be so cruel to her? Would she die on her own, by human or walker?

She stared at the woman in the water, with her short graying hair, her blue eyes, and saw in the set of her jaw that she wasn't going to just give up. She didn't come out here to wallow in her own self-pity. She'd made a _choice_. She made a choice to find Daryl, and to be with him.

"Get up," she ordered to her reflection, to herself. "Get up and find him."

She hauled herself to her feet, picked up the crowbar and started walking. She just picked a direction, whichever her gut told her, and walked. She would find Daryl.

She _had _to.

* * *

And by some god _damn_ miracle, she had found him. He was right here, and she was touching him. He was real. It wasn't a dream, or a hallucination. She had found him.

"What the hell are ya doin'?" She focused on his face, focused on his blue eyes staring into hers, and she wanted to cry in relief, wanted to, selfishly, pull him into her embrace.

"I found you," she repeated, reaching up, her fingers running down the side of his face. He flinched back like she'd burned him.

Merle's laughter echoed around them, and Daryl's face filled with shame. "Well would ya look at that," Merle taunted, circling them. "Lil' brother went an' got himself a _girlfriend_."

She watched his face shade red, his shoulders hunch. She hadn't seen that expression on his face _ever_. Not that horrible pained shame and submission. That wasn't Daryl.

"I'm not his girlfriend," she forced out, her voice sounding hoarse to her own ears. Merle laughed, mockingly and harsh.

"Oh yeah," he said, coming up behind Daryl, leaning over his shoulder. He let his hand fall over it, and she could see him grip hard. She felt something simmer inside of her as Daryl could only look away, his lips shut tight.

"Then whaddaya doin' all the way out here, talkin' bout findin' ma brother like he's some goddamn _Jesus_." She chewed her bottom lip.

She couldn't admit to _either_ of them why she had really come out here to find him. Those were her reasons, and she wasn't even sure she was ready to admit to them, let alone admit them to Daryl and _Merle_.

But watching him cower under Merle like a scared little boy lit a fire within her.

"I had to find him," she said firmly, squaring her shoulders. All those times that Daryl had fought for her, she had let him. All those days he'd gone out looking for Sophia, she had watched his retreating back and prayed.

This time, she would fight for him.

Merle smirked and slung his arm over Daryl's shoulders. "Why? Didn't yer little friends tell ya he weren't comin' back? Didn't they tell ya he chose _me_?" Daryl looked at her, his eyes pleading. But for what? For her to go? For her to stay?

"I don't need a reason," she pushed, gripping the crowbar tighter in her hand. She took a step toward them. She wasn't going to let Merle push _both_ of them around.

"Ya just don't take a stroll fer ma brother fer _nothin'_," he whispered cruelly, stepping away from Daryl and closer to her.

She pulled her shoulders up, drawing on whatever strength she had gained over the winter, over her time in the prison. Merle was just a man, with a damaged soul. He didn't know how to treat people, didn't know how to do things the right way.

All he knew was pain, and suffering.

"Yes, I did. Because I _care_," she forced back, between her clenched teeth. She watched his lip quiver, and the metal arm raise up to his side.

"Merle," Daryl warned from behind him, stepping closer. He was still hesitant to do anything against Merle but she could see the crossbow getting higher.

Fear gripped her suddenly, as Merle's eyes darkened.

"_Nobody_ cares," he muttered darkly. And she flinched. The words were not what she had expected. There was pain in the echo of that admission, pain and an ache that left her heart hurting. There was more to those words than she could guess.

And she could see in his eyes that there was something she was missing.

She turned suddenly, at the sound of voices screaming, the echo of a gunshot. The cry of a…

She caught Daryl's eyes, her own widening in fear.

"That's a baby," he said and turned for the river.

"It ain't no baby," Merle called, trailing after him. "That's a couple coons makin' love sweet love," and he motioned something vulgar with his hips. She couldn't stop the look of disgust from crossing her face and he just wiggled his brows at her. She didn't bother with him as she turned to follow Daryl. She watched him wade into the shallow parts of the river and look up. She followed his gaze, and took in a sharp breath. She could just make out some people, cars blocked on a bridge, walkers.

"They're in trouble," she whispered. Daryl caught her gaze and then took off up the trail.

"Hey man, I ain't wastin' my time for a couple a boys who ain't cooked me a meal," Merle called. Carol couldn't help the hate that burned inside of her for him in that moment.

"That's my policy, you'd be wise to adopt it brother." She turned on Merle and glared. It didn't matter what they'd done, or _not _done. You didn't leave people to die like that.

"We _help_ people," she spat in his face, and turned to follow Daryl.

"Daryl wait!" she called, chasing after him.

"Stay put," he yelled back, moving further ahead of her. She felt her heart drop into her stomach. He was leaving, _again_.

"Daryl!" She yelled frantically, trying to run faster. She could hear Merle laughing behind her, but it didn't matter. She didn't want to lose him again, not even if it meant to condemn someone else. He turned on his heel, and she watched shocked as he ran back to her. He stopped so close to her she could smell the sweat and see how tense his shoulders were.

And then he did something she had never thought he would do.

He reached up and trailed his fingers along her jaw, eyes flicking between hers. "Stay," he pleaded in that whisper, and she couldn't do anything but follow his request.

And she watched his retreating back as he ran for the screams of the innocent people who were in trouble, Merle at his heels grudgingly.

All she could focus on were his wings, and she prayed he would be okay.

* * *

**A/N**: Oh who can blame me for Caryl-ing up 'Home'? Really, this ended up being a Maryl too. I don't know what it could be, but I'd like to take it further. I just had an idea, and I needed to get my feels out. Let me know what ya think! And this is actually my first time going AU with a scene that has already happened in the show.


	2. Fight

**Nox: **I had most of this chapter written a while ago so it was the easiest to finish during this difficult time for me. And I figure it's about time I get an update out. Hope you like.

_The Walking Dead _belongs to Kirkman and AMC.

* * *

Fight

It took every ounce of willpower she had not to run to that bridge, to run to _him_, and do something. She didn't know what she could do, but she felt like she needed to do something other than stand there and be useless. There was _nothing_ she could do though. Daryl had asked her _not _to. Merle, of course, did nothing. Just watched as Daryl methodically took out each and every walker; saving those people.

She was so _proud _of him for that. Those actions spoke volumes, painted the _real _picture of the man that he really was. That was the man that he'd become after all these months. A man who didn't sacrifice the lives of others for his own needs. A man who didn't hesitate to fight for those who were weaker than him. A man who had _honor. _

Water splashed around her ankles, bringing her back. It was the best view she had of the bridge without going too close, but it wasn't close enough. She was still too far. If something happened, she would never reach them in time, never reach _him_.

And then something changed. She could feel it, as Daryl raised the crossbow, pointed it toward Merle. She felt the hair on the back of her neck raise as his voice carried down to her.

She could count on her hands the number of times he had vocalized like that. Sounded like he would tear someone's throat out.

And she ran. Pushed through the water, and up the incline, falling to her hands in the process. She ran through the trees, stumbling as she went in the direction she _hoped_ to God was the bridge. Didn't matter what he'd asked. Didn't matter _how_ he'd asked, even if she could still feel his fingers ghosting down her jaw; rough, tentative.

She swallowed hard as her heart beat fast against her chest, the blood rushing to her face.

"You lost yer hand coz yer a simple-minded piece a shit!" She felt the air get stuck in her lungs as Daryl's voice penetrated her thoughts. She could feel the anger, and the hatred and everything that had been pent up inside him behind those words. He was _pissed_.

"Yeah, you don't know!" There was a terrible ripping sound and she felt her foot catch on something. She stumbled and tripped, pitched forward onto her hands and knees again.

Her heart beat frantically at the sound of Merle's voice echoing around her. If she didn't find them, didn't get to them in time, who knows what would happen between them, what they would say to each other that couldn't be taken back. She may have had her reservations about Merle for what he had done to Maggie and Glenn, but that didn't mean she wanted Daryl to lose the only _family_ he had left in this world.

When she looked up she caught a flicker of blue through the trees, and Daryl was kneeling on the ground just a few feet in front of her, staring back at her.

She felt her breath catch in her throat as his face twisted in shame and anger as he tore his gaze away from hers.

"I-I-I didn't know." He jerked Merle's hands off of him, fumbling to pick up the things he dropped, fumbling with something on his back. She sat back on her heels, her hands to her mouth as the smell of blood and dirt invaded her nose. She _knew_ what he was trying to cover up. Knew it as her heart dropped into her stomach.

"Yeah, ya did." His voice shook as he pulled his pack across his shoulders. And she couldn't even _breathe_, couldn't even find the strength to stand on her feet.

"He did the same to you." She felt the tears slide down her cheeks, remembering those scars. She could still feel them, the raised skin, the rough edges, and the _mutilation_ that had been purposefully done to his body. There was a single-mindedness that had been exacted in those scars; a fine, precise _fear_ that had been carved into his skin that he would never escape. She had felt it beneath her fingers, beneath her own trembling skin as he let her touch them, caress them, _know _them in a way she suspected he never let anyone before her.

Her fingers trembled at the memory.

"That's why you left first." Hearing that Merle had suffered that same fate and _left _Daryl, alone, only made the anger within her boil. How could he have _done _that? How could he have left the only person who mattered to bear that weight alone?

"I had to man. I would a killed him otherwise." Excuses. All she could hear were these goddamn _excuses_. Merle should have _stayed _for Daryl, should have protected him from that kind of pain. Merle should have been there for Daryl like the family that he was.

At least, that's what she _wanted _to believe. Because she could still hear the tortured agony in Merle's voice. Knew in her heart that if Daryl had suffered so had _Merle_.

She rose to her feet, and took the last few steps toward them. The brush underneath gave her away, snapping, and Daryl's eyes found her again. He looked pissed, and hurt. But most of all, he looked _ashamed_.

"Where ya goin'?" And she couldn't stop the way her chest clenched at the way he looked so pained, so _lost_ as he walked away from Merle, his shoulders hunched against him.

And what could she do but stand there and watch as his eyes found hers again, the blue shining bright.

"Back where I belong," he cried out, sounding so much like a child. She felt her eyes well up, at his words, at the way he held her gaze, at the way his voice caught on the last word. And all she wanted to do was tell him that he did belong with them. That no matter where he went he would always have a place in her heart. But she just nodded as she chewed her bottom lip.

"I can't go with you. I-" Daryl couldn't _believe _that Carol was seein' this shit happen. He couldn't believe that Merle was tryin' ta leave him _again_. He couldn't think bout no one but hisself. Couldn't just fer once, try to be his brother. And if Merle weren't gonna try then fuck it. He weren't gonna try neither.

"I tried to kill that black bitch. Damn near killed the Chinese kid." Merle sounded fuckin' desperate. Like a man who was losin' somethin'. What about what _he_ was losin'? What about what _he _wanted? He couldn't tear his gaze away from Carol, couldn't think long enough to know what he was about to do.

Merle always had a fuckin' excuse.

"He's Korean." But he weren't gonna let Merle treat the rest of his people like he'd let Merle treat _him _his whole life.

"Whatever. Doesn't matter man. I just can't go with ya." Merle'd never been able to choose him. Never chose him _ever. _When they mama died, he chose to stay gone. Never came back home, never even bothered to check up on him. Just _gone. _When they ol' man done an' tried to kill him, Merle just acted like nothin' ever happened. Merle just got up an' walked _away_. He just _left_. Just like he was gonna do now.

Coz that's what he was good at.

"Ya know, I may be the one the walking away, but yer the one that's leaving. _Again_." Merle had left so many times he couldn't ever remember his brother bein' round long. Not after he was grown. And he was sick a havin' to follow Merle round like that was what he was _supposed _to do. Like that his was goddamned purpose in life.

What about what _he _wanted? What about what he had to give up when he'd left with Merle? What about the woman standin' behind him, who'd come all that fuckin' way, riskin' her goddamn life just to find him?

Daryl turned to find her, still hovering just behind him. And the look of barely contained sadness on her face that made him want to run into the familiarity of the trees and never come back. But he couldn't leave her now, not after what she'd done for him. Not when he could feel somethin' just sittin' in his chest when he looked at _her_.

He couldn't go with Merle. Not when Merle was still thinkin' bout Merle. Didn't matter what _he _wanted. Didn't matter that he wanted to go back to the people who'd given him somethin' he'd never had. Not when he wanted to turn round and into the waitin' arms a the woman standin' right fuckin' _there._

But he couldn't fuckin' do it. Couldn't sit there and watch her look at him like he was some fucked up little kid who needed his Ma to hold him, and kiss him, and whisper shit into his ear.

He grit his teeth hard, his jaw achin' from the effort. His Ma had never, _ever_, given him that neither.

And he ran. Coz that was what he knew best.

"Daryl!" She screamed, rising to her feet unsteadily, attemptin' to go after him. Merle dropped his head, feelin' a hole open up in his chest. He'd gone an' done it again. Fucked up the only thing he should a been able to do _right_.

"Daryl…" she watched him practically run ahead, ignoring her call. He didn't feel nothin' fer her. Not even when she wrapped her arms around herself. She just needed to let'im go. Daryl needed his space, an' he didn't want nobody comin' after him. Merle knew that better than he knew how to handle Daryl right in his face.

"Let'im go sweetheart," he called out to her. She turned on her heels fast. He didn't think she would respond to him, an' not with that fuckin' look in her eyes.

"This is _your_ fault," she spat harshly, pointing at him with her bloodied hands.

He looked up, anger suddenly boilin' inside him. Who the _fuck _was she to talk ta _him _like that? Weren't no way he were gonna let no fuckin' mousey bitch git away with _that. _

He stalked toward her, felt the anger of her words build him up, felt the anger of what he'd done to piss off Daryl build him up even further, felt the anger of all the fucked up shit he'd done since the world had gone to hell, an' grabbed her.

_By the throat. _

She tried to back away; her feet fumbling beneath her, catchin' on anything and everything, but she couldn't get away. And his hand felt fuckin' _good _closin' round her neck, squeezin' her soft, weak flesh the way it did. It was a thin thing, just small enough for his fingers to _almost _close all the way around.

"Ya don't fuckin' know _nothin'_," he whispered dangerously, holdin' her wide-eyed gaze with his own. He liked the way she looked, scared and tremblin' before him. He liked the way it made him feel better.

But he didn't like the way it made him like he was doin' somethin' wrong either. The hell was that shit? He never felt that – that _guilt _of doin' somethin' wrong. He was _never _wrong.

Least, he never let himself think he were wrong.

But now this bitch with the warm blue eyes that couldn't seem to stop _lookin' _at him made him feel like he were all fuckin' _wrong_. Like if he did anything stupid, he'd fuck it up with Daryl, _again_.

And he was already in the shitter on that one.

"Fuck," he growled out, letting his hand fall from her throat. She collapsed to the ground, gasping quietly. "Fuck!" He whirled around, the trees spinning green around him, and he let everything just blur together.

"I know," she panted out from her place on the ground, clutching at her throat, "that you're better than this." He turned to her, growling, thrusting his bladed arm in her face.

"You don't know shit bout me mouse." She rose to her feet, rubbing at her neck, wincing as she coughed violently. He was worried suddenly; worried about what Daryl would do now that he'd fucked with his woman.

"I know," she continued hoarsely, "that Daryl would never have come with you if he didn't think you were worth it." She started coughing again, bending at the waist.

He felt his blood boil again and he ran at her, grabbing her by the jaw this time, forcing her against the tree at her back. If he thought about what he was doin', he would figure out that he was fuckin' stupid fer doin' this. He would _know _that Daryl would fuckin' _fight _him fer even touchin' a woman that he even knew. But he weren't thinkin'.

And Merle sure as fuck didn't care right then.

"The hell do you think know?" he whispered, squeezing hard. She flinched, reaching up and taking hold of his arm. She didn't look scared this time. And he didn't like the way her hand felt on his arm, the way his skin tingled beneath her fingers.

"I know that Daryl cares more than he lets on," she said softly, eyes drifting from his. "I know that he wanted to _find _you, _every day_ that you were gone." He recognized that desperation in her eyes, in her voice. He'd felt that more times than he would ever admit to anybody.

"He'd never admit that to anybody," she confessed, eyes apologetic, "because he knew how the group felt about you." And then she squeezed his arm gently, trailed her fingers up his arm, and pulled softly at the hand that held her jaw. He couldn't do nothin' but let her, couldn't stop her. He didn't have it in him. He didn't know _how _too.

"But I know that he wants you to go with him, back to the prison. He's _always_ wanted you with him."

She still hadn't looked at him with anger or hatred or fear for what he was doin' to her, an' she was _still _tryin' to get him to go back to the fuckin' prison with Daryl.

What the hell kind a woman does that?

He only knew one woman who'd _ever _put up with his shit but she were gone now. He didn't there were another who'd ever fight _back_. 'Specially not one who looked after his little brother.

"So you can leave again," she said cautiously, pulling his hand away from her face, "or you can come with us." What the hell kind a proposition was that? Before his argument with Daryl had ever _ended _there'd only ever been one solution.

There was only ever one thing fer him to do.

Daryl was the only person in the whole fuckin' world that mattered. Where Daryl went, he had to follow. What Daryl did, he would have to try and do. Who Daryl called family, he would have to try and accept. Or he'd just not kill'em. Either way, he weren't leavin' Daryl again.

No matter what he'd said earlier.

Didn't matter if nobody ever believed him neither. He'd go wherever Daryl went. He'd protect his little brother.

Coz that's what he fuckin' did.

He pushed away from the mouse, and turned away, hopin' she didn't see everything on his face.

"Course I'm goin', ya dumb broad." He heard her sigh heavily, and the crack of the branches beneath her feet as she started walking. He turned back around to find her walking in the direction Daryl had gone.

"The fuck ya goin'?" She didn't even bother to turn and answer him. Just kept walkin', still massaging her throat.

"We have to catch up with him," she called back. She glanced over her shoulder, her brow raised. "He's fast you know."

He snorted, and jogged to catch up with her, feeling like he weighed more than he should. He was fuckin' tired now. "Know that better'n you fuckin' do." He caught the end of her smile as he got to her side, an' felt somethin' tug inside of him.

"Of course you do," she said.

"Ya mockin' me?" He watched as she bit her bottom lip, and shrugged her shoulders. He reached out quick-like, and grabbed her shoulder to stop her. She tensed up beneath his grip. He leaned in close, and felt the slightest bit of guilt as she leaned away from him, fear just a shadow behind her eyes now.

"Don't think you know me just coz you know somethin' bout Daryl," he murmured. She swallowed hard, but she never looked away from him.

And the way she held his gaze made him think she made of stronger stuff than he had thought before.

"Carol?" She jerked away from him, her eyes seeking the voice that had called out to her. She watched Daryl shift between the shadows of the trees and approach them. Merle's hand still gripped her shoulder tight, and her throat still hurt but she'd felt more alive in seeing him.

"Daryl," she said breathlessly and pulled herself free of Merle's grip, feeling his fingers linger as they trailed against her arm. She'd never wanted to get away from him more than in that moment.

But she'd never wanted to _help _someone more than Merle Dixon than when he had looked at her with such agony - in that moment between, when she had asked him if he was coming and he told her he was. It was like nothing had mattered but that he go with Daryl, even if that meant the end of _everything_. Even if that meant Daryl hated him.

"Ya alright?" Daryl said warily, looking at her face and hands, noting her ragged breathing.

"I'm fine Daryl," she said hurriedly, before it turned into another fight, before it turned into something they truly couldn't come back from. "I'm _okay_." She reached out to touch his arm, something she rarely did because he never really liked to be touched.

But for once, _she _needed it. Maybe she wasn't okay, but she wasn't going to tell him that.

"I'm okay," she murmured again, closing her eyes, letting the feel of his skin beneath her fingers calm her. She listened to the swell of his breath next to her, smelled the sweat and the mixture of Daryl that was dirt, and leather, and musk.

She knew she was finally okay when these things calmed her beating heart beneath her chest.

"He didn't do nothin' to ya, did he?" he growled out, startling her eyes open. She smiled thinly, and knew that she couldn't really talk about what she and Merle had 'discussed' before he'd shown up. Not right now at least. She would save that for another time. For now, she just wanted to go.

Whether that was back to the prison, or wherever. She just wanted to _go_, with him, away from here.

"Daryl, I told you. I'm okay." He studied her closely, and she knew he didn't believe her. Could feel it in the way he stared so intently, blue eyes sharp. Could sense it in the way he shifted closer to her.

She thought he was going to address it again, maybe even ask why her throat was red or her voice was hoarse. But he did neither of those things. Instead, he asked the one thing she wasn't prepared for.

"Why'd ya come?" She couldn't stop the way her fingers twitched against his arm, and he didn't miss it either. She swallowed the emotions down, pulled her hand away, turned from him.

And she started walking away from him. The sudden need to escape from him urgent. She could feel her emotions swallowing her up, drowning her.

Did she tell him the truth? Did she tell him the reason why she'd risked her life just to find him, when on the off chance she may have never found him? Did she risk losing what they had for something that may never be? Did she take that chance?

Did she take the chance that, just maybe, he felt the same?

"Carol," he whispered from behind her, his firm grip closing around her shoulder. She slowed to a halt as his hand slid across her shoulder softly, his fingers ghosting under her chin. He pulled her gaze to his, gently.

And his touch was so vastly different from Merle's she couldn't help the way her eyes welled up. He'd only been this gentle with her once before, and this time she wasn't lost and near-death. She couldn't stop her heart from fluttering in her chest, or the tears from falling down her cheeks.

Daryl pulled away quickly, and she knew she'd scared him off. But she wasn't going to let him go that easy. Not again.

"Daryl," she said hoarsely, and grabbed hold of his hand before he put any more distance between them. She felt him flinch, and pull back. But she didn't let go of his grip. His blue eyes searched hers wildly, his body tensed to run. "I came for you," she forced out, the truest admission she could make without giving away more than either of them could handle. His eyes widened slightly, but his arm relaxed a little.

"I…" She couldn't look him in the eyes she was so nervous. She could only feel the callouses of his fingers, the fine scars on the back of his hand, and the way it trembled in hers.

But maybe now was as good a time as any to finally tell him what she'd been holding deep in her heart for all this time. Maybe now was finally the time to let him know just how much he meant to her.

"I came because I-"

"Don't mind ol' Merle," he said brusquely, pushing between them, separating their hands suddenly. He glanced down at her, lips quirked up in a wicked smile, something dark flashing behind his eyes. She felt her face get hot, and the anger simmer low in her belly.

"Got people ta git back to," Merle remarked lightly, looking over his shoulder, "don't we?" And she wanted to smack the smile off his face. She wanted to wrap her hands around his throat and _squeeze. _He knew exactly what he was doing and how much it would anger her. How he'd figured that out, she didn't know.

She felt her nails dig painfully into her palms, and her fists began to shake. Merle was going to be trouble and she wasn't sure how much she wanted to put up with it. But if he kept pushing her, he was going to regret it. She would make sure of it. She wasn't going to let him do anything like he'd done before to her ever again. He may have caught her off guard, he may be Daryl's brother, he may be twice her size.

But she would never let him touch her again.

She froze as a hand touched hers. She glanced down to see Daryl's weathered hand curl gently around hers, and then she looked up.

He held her eyes as he patiently, _gently_, pried her fingers open. She felt the tension release from her shoulders and her other hand uncurled. And when his fingers swept across her palm the breath hitched in her throat.

He pulled his hand away from her slowly, her fingers trailing over his as he pulled away.

"Let's go," he murmured and started walking, leaving her behind to stare at his back.

She watched as he caught up with Merle and they started walking side-by-side. Not close, but still in tandem. Daryl kept his head low, chin down, crossbow tucked in close. She hated the way his shirt flapped against his legs, hated the way he'd been exposed.

Merle just kept walking, head held high, shoulders back. Looking as if he didn't care where he was going or who he was with. She hated that arrogance about him, even after all that he had done. Like he hadn't almost abandoned Daryl.

She hated how much of each other that they _were_ though. How much they were brothers. No matter how different they looked, how different they acted and walked, they still had the same gait. She couldn't watch them walk away, and not see the same thing. The weight of suffering in their shoulder, as if they carried the same burden. It was the same stooped back, hunched shoulders. Painful, heavy.

Purposeful.

And then they both stopped and looked back at her. The motion was so similar she couldn't help but stare.

"Ya comin' or what?" Merle barked back, gesturing at her with the metal contraption.

But it was Daryl that she was watching, as he jerked his head, calling her. And her feet carried her away before she even thought to process the motion.

She hurried to their sides, standing between them.

"Ya keep us waitin' woman, an' ya might get _lost_. Won't be lookin' fer ya," Merle said, chuckling. She didn't miss the way his eyes darkened and narrowed, falling to her neck. The laughter died on his tongue, and he looked away before she did.

"Speak fer yerself," Daryl muttered, and she knew she was just as surprised as Merle was. Suddenly his arm was around her shoulders, heavy. He pulled her close against his chest. Daryl's face darkened, and his hands gripped the crossbow tighter.

"Well whaddaya know?" And he leaned down into her face, brows raised. "Lil' brother must like ya somethin' _special_," he suggested, running his tongue across his bottom lip.

She felt her face get hot, for the _third _time that day, and knew then that no matter what Merle tried to be, he was nothing more than a vulgar, annoying older brother who just couldn't help himself, despite how dangerous he could also be.

"Go to _hell_," she ground out between her teeth as she shoved at his chest and his metal arm raked against her shoulders and fell away. She stormed off, not bothering to see if they followed her.

Merle's bellowing laugh erupted around them, and she almost turned back around. But the resounding _oomph_ stopped her.

"Goddammit Daryl," he growled.

She felt her lips turn up, slightly.

* * *

**A/N**: I hope ya'll can like Merle here even if I did make him a little _rough_. I also have him thinking back to a woman. Some of my readers may know who she is, and my infrequent readers may not. You can find her in The Bad, the Ugly, and the Dixons.

I do so **adore** you all. Do you know that?


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